Not with the pull of the Lure between them.
“Very well, then,” she said imperiously. “For that matter, I refuse to allow you to join this hawking excursion. You will return to Thunderbey Castle immediately and I want nothing more to do with you.”
Beside Kira, Creston sighed heavily; even when his cousin harshly turned his back on the beautiful young maiden, she undoubtedly knew his motives well. Creston was acutely aware that Beckett was bluffing; certainly, Kira knew it too. Clearly, the relationship between them was growing, manifesting itself into instinctively natural speculations and exploration, and Creston realized at that moment that his intent to pursue the porcelain-featured lady was slipping boldly through his fingers. As Beckett and Kira came to know each other, jesting and testing and all, Creston found himself driven further and further away.
Since their reintroduction yesterday after having not seen each other in many years, his cousin and the fair maiden had been obviously drawn together by a powerfully invisible force. Nothing could keep them apart, not even a hostile suitor with more brawn than brains, and up until this moment, Creston wasn’t serious to consider the fact that their relationship was based on anything other than initial infatuation. Clearly, there was something far more heady occurring. Something Creston himself was unable to deny.
And something that sprung a bitter well deep within his heart. Realizing his opportunity for suit was meeting with defeat before it had ever truly begun. Thanks to his overpowering, completely oppressive cousin.
Creston was jolted from his deepening train of thought when Beckett suddenly paused in the midst of the bustling bailey, turning to fix his searing gaze on Kira’s haughty expression. Massive fists resting on his narrow hips, he cocked an eyebrow.
“Is that so?”
“Aye, that’s so. Go home and stay there. You’re far too arrogant for my taste.”
“And you will address me respectfully at all times.”
Kira thrust her pert nose into the air, turning away from his threatening expression. “My apologies, O Lord of the Severed Neck.”
Creston choked on the bubble of laughter that nearly exploded in his throat, coughing loudly to cover his blunder. He had to turn his head away so that neither Kira or Beckett would see his smirking grin; mayhap if she played the Game well enough, Beckett really would leave. Mayhap there was a chance for his weakened suit, after all. Silently, he found himself cheering on a game of playful insults that was quickly escalating into the real thing.
Beckett emitted a low, heavy sigh. “My name is Beckett. If you would like to be technical about it, it is Lord Tillingham. Or has that fact slipped your mind?”
Kira ignored him soundly, delicately smoothing at the hair captured within the silken net. “Not at all, my lord. But I choose to discontinue this conversation. Be gone from my sight.”
Creston couldn’t help the sputtering snickers that worked themselves free of his closed lips as Beckett ever so slowly retraced his steps. Stepping away from the lady’s palfrey, he found a proper spot from which to observe the progressing hostilities.
Lingering before the small gray mare, Beckett’s gaze was impassive as he observed Kira’s indifferent expression. “You will not speak to me in such a fashion, jesting or not. And certainly not in a bailey full of vassals and servants,” his bass voice was a rumbling growl. “Do you comprehend me?”
She heard his words and his tone, casting him a long Beckett from the corner of her eye. Certainly, she had been jesting until the last few sentences. Now, suddenly, the air between them was tense and she didn’t like it at all. Not one bit.
Unfortunately, Kira was unwilling to back down. With her father, she was completely submissive to the point of over-reactive. But within the realm of her many pursuers, ’twas she who maintained the reins of power. The only measure of control she was able to experience within her confining little world, and she clung to it stubbornly. Even in the face of her one true desire.
“This is my home, my lord,” she said, her baby-soft voice free of all humor. “If I offended you, I apologize. But I am unused to an alleged suitor so rudely turning his back on me.”
Beckett watched her beautiful profile, softly illuminated in the fresh morning light. “I am not an alleged suitor. I am your only true choice. But I will accept your apology on one condition; that you cease these foolish feminine attempts to provoke my jealousy. Certainly, I do not require any such provocation.”
Offended and strangely flattered at the same time, she met his intense gaze with a furrowed brow. “I… I do not know what you mean.” She had no idea why she lied to him, only that by admitting her guilt, she would be admitting her failing. And she had never failed in the eyes of a suitor; not once. Especially not in the arena of flirtatious, taunting games. “I wasn’t attempting to provoke you in any way.”
Leaning against the buttocks of her palfrey, Creston shook his head at her futile attempt to cover her folly. “God’s Blood, Kira, admit your prank and be done with it. Beckett is well aware of your childish game. Just as you are well aware of his.”
Suddenly, the morning was not progressing at all well. Beckett was angry with her and Creston thought her to be childish. Foolish. What had begun as a simple game of devilish female intentions had turned against her like a snapping beast, and Kira’s cheeks flushed a dull red as she stared at her fumbling hands. So much for creating the air of competition between the two men.
So much for ridding herself of Creston in a painless manner.
“I… I had no idea you thought so highly of me, Sir Creston,” she murmured, scarcely audible above the noise in the bailey. Embarrassed and bordering on confused tears, she abruptly slid from her mare and moved quickly around Beckett. Humiliated and eager to be free of their knowing speculations, she kept her gaze completely averted. “I shall see if Sir Thayer requires any help with the hawks.”
“Nay, lady,” Beckett grasped her before she could move away entirely, clutching her firmly by both arms and forcing her to face him. His head dipped low, attempting to gaze into her flushed, ashamed expression. “You’re going to stay here, with me, until the hawks are brought about. And as for Creston, he believes the sun to rise and set upon your beautiful face. Can you truly not admit that I have foiled your wickedly feminine game of manipulation?”
Her brow furrowed like a spoiled child as she stared at the ground, entirely unwilling to meet his gaze. “You’re taunting me.”
“I’m not. But I fully realize your intentions.”
Her head came up, then. Pouting violets focused upon steel-gray orbs that had suddenly regained a measure of their humor. Humiliation somewhat easing as she gazed into Beckett’s twinkling eyes, she pursed her lips wryly. “You believe yourself entirely too clever, don’t you? I don’t like smug men.”
“And I don’t like foolish games. Admit your sins and I will be merciful.”
“Nay.”
“Admit them.”
“I will not.”
He was unable to control his grin. “Then Creston was correct. You are a stubborn creature.”
She drew deep his beautiful smile, feeling it weaken and strengthen her at the same time. Her humiliation faded sharply, replaced by the familiar sense of humor and likability they were coming to share. Lips twitching with a renewed sense of control, she cocked an eyebrow at his entirely smug, entirely delicious smile. She knew he forgave her, even if she had admitted nothing.
“More than you know,” she said, her enchanting demeanor making a swift return. “But you still cannot ride beside me.”
His smile faded. “And why not?”
Her expression turned serious, if not somewhat remorseful. “Thayer will expect to. We planned this hawking expedition yesterday and I am sure he anticipates acting as my escort.”
Beckett’s face darkened, but he refrained from arguing the point. After all, she was a lady of honor and if she had already promised the Yorkist buffoon that he could ride escort, certainly Bec
kett could not dispute the solidity of her word. Even so, he was not happy with the state of the situation.
Thayer and the falconer emerged from the walled garden as well as the soldiers who had accompanied Thayer to the mews. Each man was carrying a bird, five in all, as Beckett escorted Kira back to her palfrey as the feather-laden party approached. Lifting her slight weight effortlessly onto the small saddle, he smiled gently into her lovely face as Thayer advanced with her white and brown hen. Obviously ignoring the dense young knight as the man gently delivered the hooded bird onto Kira’s protected arm, he moved toward his lingering cousin.
Steel-gray met with those of bright green. “If you value your life, you’ll graciously allow me to ride beside the lady in your stead.”
Creston regarded at his cousin, his usually-emotional facade quite unreadable. Unfolding his arms casually, he returned his focus to the petite young woman, cooing gently to her blinded hawk. For certain, he refused to believe he was completely eliminated from the course of heady competition. Even if all of the clues were inclined to submit the obvious, still, Creston was reluctant to accept the truth. As long as the lady was without an official beau, there was still a fighting chance to make his suit known.
And fight he would.
“Nay.”
Creston’s answer was hardly audible as he walked away from his massive cousin, refusing to meet the man’s piercing gaze. Truthfully, Beckett was not surprised as he watched his cousin move for his fat destrier, mounting the animal with his usual stiffness. Even though Creston had been unwilling to admit himself serious to court the delicate young woman, Beckett knew differently. He had from the first.
Furthermore, he was not entirely surprised to realize that his disturbing suspicion of conflict and animosity between them was apparently coming to past. With only a handful of words spoken, a minimal number of gestures obtained, the message of competition was as clear as the sky above.
He could feel it.
The stakes were mounting.
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About Kathryn Le Veque
Medieval Just Got Real.
KATHRYN LE VEQUE is a USA TODAY Bestselling author, an Amazon All-Star author, and a #1 bestselling, award-winning, multi-published author in Medieval Historical Romance and Historical Fiction. She has been featured in the NEW YORK TIMES and on USA TODAY’s HEA blog. In March 2015, Kathryn was the featured cover story for the March issue of InD’Tale Magazine, the premier Indie author magazine. She was also a quadruple nominee (a record!) for the prestigious RONE awards for 2015.
Kathryn’s Medieval Romance novels have been called ‘detailed’, ‘highly romantic’, and ‘character-rich’. She crafts great adventures of love, battles, passion, and romance in the High Middle Ages. More than that, she writes for both women AND men – an unusual crossover for a romance author – and Kathryn has many male readers who enjoy her stories because of the male perspective, the action, and the adventure.
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